


Your Time Has Cum

by cucumber_of_doom



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Grim Reaper!Hannibal, Hades and Persephone references, M/M, Public Blow Jobs, as in Will swallows some seeds, but they are NOT pomegranate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-18 00:12:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14200683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cucumber_of_doom/pseuds/cucumber_of_doom
Summary: Will is a young cop in New Orleans when he encounters a handsome stranger in a dimly lit back alley. The man has incredible cheek bones and may not be human.





	Your Time Has Cum

**Author's Note:**

> It too me longer than expected to settle on a fittingly terrible pun for the title.

It is late when Will exits the bar and the air that hits his face is a blessing, no matter how hot and humid New Orleans is during the height of summer. It still beats the air inside the building, ripe with sweat and too many bodies packed to close together. He takes a deep breath that feels like heaven to his smoke irritated lungs. For a moment he just stands and breathes until the muffled music gets louder once again and chatter spills out onto the street. 

Will turns his head and sees that his colleagues have followed him. Mitch and Dennis support Daniel between them, who is too far gone to walk on his own and Will feels no guilt about letting them deal with him on their own. They were celebrating Daniel’s promotion, at least this is what Will thinks was used as the excuse to get terribly drunk on cheap beer and tequila shots. Anyway, not his problem. They’ve got this, Will’s involvement is unnecessary. 

The five minutes it takes the cab to arrive feel like much longer but once the car pulls up at the curb they maneuver their wasted colleague into the back seat - where he promptly tries to lay down while insisting on being fine. They collectively ignore him. Instead, Mitch prods him with his foot until he budges enough to let the other man join him in the back to let Dennis deal with the driver.

“You sure you don’t wanna call a cab too, buddy?” Mitch asks through the open window, but Will waves him off.

“A walk will do me good. You just make sure Daniel doesn’t pass out on the sidewalk, I’ll be fine,” he says louder than necessary, his ears still ringing from the music inside. Mitch shrugs and maneuvers Daniel into his seat belt. 

They say their goodbyes and Will watches them drive off and then, finally, he lets his shoulders drop. Too much socialization with too little pay-off. 

Will is drunk and horny, but trying to pick up men with his colleagues nearby is nothing he wants to risk. Coming out at work is something he is not ready for, but now that they are gone he sees his chance. Hell is other people and all of that, but he really needs to blow off some steam and knows just the place for that. After all, he is young and no longer lives in the backwater towns he grew up in. The jeans and t-shirt he wears are tight enough not to require too much social skill if he wants to get laid tonight and he can fake an agreeable personality for a little while longer if it gets him what he needs. 

He leaves the bar behind with a newfound spring in his step. The night is going to get much better very soon and he decides to take a shortcut through an alley because the booze makes him brave and off-duty or not, he is a cop and can look after himself, thank you very much. He can take all the shortcuts he damn well pleases, especially after pretending to be straight for the past few hours.

Soon the sounds pf the main road quieten and he starts humming under his breath, tapping the beat of the song stuck in his head out in his leg to chase away the eery silence in the dark alley way. He does not pay attention to his surroundings as much as he should and startles when he rounds a corner and almost walks directly into a suit-clad figure.

“Sorry!” he says, laughing and still floating on the happy tequila cloud that brought him here. Before he can continue on his way thought, he stops dead in his tracks, because that man in the plaid patterned three piece suit? He is hot as hell. Older than Will by at least a decade and broad in the shoulders. Something twists low in Will’s belly, a primal ache.

“You’ve got some really attractive cheekbones, you know that?” Will says.

He is not sure where he got the courage to talk like this, but it is most likely the alcohol. Tequila shots do this to a person.

The man cocks his head and in the low light coming from the lamp above the back door to a Burger King his eyes look almost red. Like blood.

“Pardon?” he says and Will licks his lips. There is weird accent he can’t place to that deep voice and Will wants to hear more of it. Maybe even while saying something dirty. That would be nice.

“I want to suck your dick,” he blurts out. “Shit. Sorry. I mean, I do want to and not sorry for that, but… Fuck!”

Will feels heat rise in his face, instinctively taking a step back. Hell, he fucked that up royally, didn’t he? Also he is definitely drunker than he thought if he has lost his filter as completely as this.

But when Will lifts his head, the man looks amused, not angry. Will can work with amused; it is worlds better than angry or disgusted. No, amused is as close to perfect as he can hope for.

“Be my guest, then,” the man says with that accent and Will let’s out a groan. This is a terrible idea and he has never wanted anything as much as having that dick in his mouth right now.

The world spins dangerously when he steps closer and then lets his knees hit the concrete. The pain shooting up his legs does nothing to clear his head, it barely even registers.

“This is a terrible idea,” he says out loud, his voice slurring a little as his fingers touch the fine wool of the mans pant legs. He wonders what kind of person wears wool in this weather, but it does feel nice on his his kin.

The chuckle escaping the mans throat is a deep rumble that goes straight to Will’s cock.

“One should always follow their instinct and not judge late night epiphanies before the morning, dear boy.”

And if that is not a philosophy to live by.

Will undoes the belt and fly as quickly as his numb fingers allow, fumbling terribly during the process and lets out a curse or two. He can feel the man grow hard beneath his hands and that is all the encouragement he needs. This is going to be so good, he knows it deep in his bones.

Underneath the wool he finds silky black boxer briefs and Will can’t resist the urge to nuzzle them. The hint of stubble on his cheek catching against the slick material in the most delicious way. Wills breath is hot on cloth and he finds the damp spot on it with his lips, feeling the hardness underneath. It makes heat pool in his stomach.

He pulls down the boxer briefs far enough to free the half hard cock and licks his lips.

“Fuck,” Will moans.

A small wave of pleasure sizzles down his spine as he feels a strong hand card through his hair. The need to lean into the touch is strong, but Will has other plans. Luckily they overlap with those of his mystery man.

“Why don’t you show me what else those lips are capable of except spewing obscenities, pretty boy?” 

Will doesn’t need to be told twice.

He shuffles closer, then gives the underside of that beautiful cock a good, long lick before sealing his lips around the delightfully thick head. His head buzzes as he takes him in deeper, just a little bit at first, then deeper. Will loves giving head. It’s so much easier to keep his mouth shut if he can occupy it otherwise and he knows that he is good at this. No one ever complains after an expert blow-job.

Will reaches of his hands between the man’s legs to fondle his balls and lets his tongues play with the foreskin for a moment, delighted at the sharp intake of breath it earns him. Good.

He lets his tongue glide down the underside of the cock as he starts slowly bobbing his head, taking in a bit more of it’s length each time. The taste of salt and musk makes him more aware of how painfully tight his own jeans have become, but right now he can’t focus on anything but the feeling of hot, silky skin gliding over his lips. God, he wants.

The hand in his hair becomes less gentle, tugging at the strands more than petting him now and that means Will is doing something right. Will relaxes his throat and takes him down farther, gagging a bit but holds on tightly to the man’s strong legs. The grip in his hair has now become almost painful. A slip of control and damn, if that doesn’t make Will feel powerful: making someone as put together loose control for just a moment. Hell, he wants the man badly. 

Will pulls back his head for a moment, an obscene, wet pop audible when his lips loose contact. He gasps for breath, then dives right back down, hungry for more. His nose again fills with a heady mix of musk and sweat as he swallows down the hot length another time.

His own hips grind desperately against the heel of his palm, seeking friction through too tight denim.

The man is panting too, mumbling something in a language Will does not understand but is sure to get the important parts of. He sucks harder, tries to take him in even deeper, until the fingers in his hair grip harder and the man comes undone, shooting hot, salty cum right into Will’s mouth. He swallows obediently, still grinding against his hand but it does not take much longer until he comes too, warm and sticky in his jeans and the hand in his hair lets go enough for him to sink back onto the cool concrete.

Will looks like a mess. Lips red, hair mussed beyond any shred of decency and the front of his jeans wet with the evidence of his own orgasm. He doesn’t know when he has ever felt more alive than after sucking of a complete stranger in a dark and dirty alley behind a shitty fast food place in the middle of the night.

He wipes his lips, sticky with drool and whatever drops of come he missed earlier and then, only then, does he finally look up at the man. 

He tucks himself back in and the light is too low to see if his face is as sweaty as it should be. But then Will is not thinking about impossibly well put together, attractive, older men anymore because that sticky puddle he just put his hand in? That is not water.

Will slowly lifts his hand to eye level and blinks at the red dripping from his fingers. It takes a moment to register through the alcohol and post orgasm haze. His gaze follows the puddle to where it originates: right behind the dumpster next to them.

Will rises to his feet, adrenaline rushing his system and making his heart speed up, but his brain still has not caught up. The moment he spots the body lying between the trash bags is like being hit in the face with a sock full of ice cubes.

The man lies on his front, several stab wounds in the back. He must have still been alive when Will made his proposition minutes earlier. Not only did Will fail to call an ambulance, he just contaminated a crime scene with a sloppy blow-job. Fuck.

“Fuck!”

Will reaches for his gun - his police training finally kicking in – and points it at the man in the suit. He wants to scream, because the whole situation is too absurd to be anything but a horrible, twisted dream, but no sound escapes his throat.

Will grips his gun tighter, fingers slick with blood. If he was in uniform and had his radio he could call for backup, but now all he has is himself and the panic seeping in from the edges.

The man in the suit looks perfectly calm, not a hair out of place, a sardonic smile tugging at the edge of his lips. Will’s hands shake. He fucked up. How could he fuck up so badly?

“Stay back!” he barks, his training finally doing him some good. Not that it was nearly enough to figure out this clusterfuck. Even if he had his radio, setting off a call would bring a completely different breed of problems, not with the evidence their little tryst left behind. 

Will takes another quick look at the corpse. Something does not fit. The stab wounds are deep enough that they must have left their marks on the killer, but the man in the suit is spotless as far a Will can tell. He can’t be the killer, yet the dead body does not faze him, he must have even been aware of it when Will made his proposal and he has no idea what possibility is more disturbing. 

The other man still does not look bothered by the gun pointed at him, which in turn keeps bothering Will. It further drives home the feeling of wrongness clinging to the whole encounter.

Will fights down a flinch as he spots another figure next to the man, this one somewhat less substantial. It takes Will a second to realize he looks a lot like the dead man. He wants to write it off as a hallucination, but a feeling deep in his gut doesn’t let him. This – whatever it is – is as real as himself.

“You are more special than you know, my dear. Mortals are not usually able to see me before their time has come, but you can. Which brings the question of why,” the man says and Will stratles.

“You see him now? But you did not earlier. Or maybe you were just distracted. How curious,” the man in the suit continues, then snaps his fingers. A knife appears in his hand, out of thin air. He has no trouble grabbing the ghostly figure and cutting his throat. The figure vanishes and they are alone again, the man’s maroon eyes never leaving Will. There has been no blood at all. “Have you seen the souls of the dead before, dear boy? How fascinating.” He looks outright predatory now, more beast than human. “What is your name?”

Will does not want to answer, everything in him knows not to tell the stranger his name, but he hears his voice like it is not his own.

“Will. Will Graham,” he hears it say, because lying to this man? He is not sure he can. Something won’t let him. The man looks pleased.

“Will,” he says, letting the word roll over his tongue like some rare delicacy. Despite the fear, hearing his name from the man’s lips sends a pleasurable tingle down Will’s spine.

“Are you familiar with the myth of Hades and Persephone? More precisely: with how she became queen of hell? Like with most myths there are variations of the story. How many pomegranate seeds she ate, mostly. It is what stays the same that is important. Persephone consumed the seeds out of her own free will and with this act bound herself to the underworld. There are other stories, of course. Like the fairies whose food the starving traveler has to forgo lest he be trapped in their realm. Humans always knew there to be something about the consumption of otherworldly substances.”

Will bites his lip and the man smirks knowingly. Bastard. They both know exactly what Will ‘consumed’.

He steps forward and Will suddenly knows with surprising clarity that he won’t pull the trigger. He can’t, but not because of anything other than himself this time. He always thought he would be able, should the time come, but now he knows that he won’t. He is too terrified. Too enticed by the strange, maybe not all that human creature in front of him.

The barrel is pushed aside and the gun taken from his stiff fingers before the man places a hand against Will’s cheek, just like earlier. Will does not resist the gentle manipulation and looks at the man once more. No, not human, not on closer inspection. There is something strange about him, something deeply wrong and unreal. Maybe he flickers around the edges when Will tries to look too hard, maybe that is merely fear fucking with his senses. Either way, he doesn’t move away.

The man seems to read that as agreement to whatever he has planned. His other hand goes to Will’s waist and pulls him closer. He feels warm and solid against Will in contrast to what his eyes are failing to process.

“There is so much more to the world than you know, Will Graham. It is time for you to see what else lies in the shadows you refuse to look. But no longer. Lets take you home and open your eyes, you fascinating creature. You may call me Hannibal.”

The world blurs. Will has no idea what he has gotten himself into, but it surely is going to be interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to see me rambling about writing and a lot of random blogging, visit my [tumblr](http://cucumber-of-doom.tumblr.com/) because that's where the cool kids are.


End file.
